I saw a row of sneakers by the elevator
door and wondered if they had been responsible for the incense.
After placing our sneakers in line with the others, we walked past
a sign which read "Yoga Life Perfection." A young woman with long,
black hair and a playful, impish grin sold books and incense in
the hallway. She recognized my brother and smiled at us. She wore
a sari.
We entered a medium-sized room where a smoldering stick
of incense and two unlit candles rested on a table up front.
Two young women stood together near the back of the room.
One had long brown hair and dreamy eyes. The other had a face
and figure like a model. Their faces were flushed and aglow.
They also wore saris.
"Too bad I'm not gonna be sticking around New York," I thought,
gazing at them.
In the audience sat two women in their sixties, dressed entirely
in black. They sat near a man in his thirties, with the frame
of a metal pyramid resting squarely on his head.
We sat by the two sari-clad women. They were clearly excited
about something. They used words like inspiration, aspiration,
concentration, visualization, meditation, reincarnation, and perfection.
My brother, too, seemed excited, as if something extraordinary
and wonderful were about to occur.
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